


Logistics of Murder

by HerenorThereNearnorFar



Series: My Friends Are My Estate [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4866986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerenorThereNearnorFar/pseuds/HerenorThereNearnorFar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It wasn't that Pietro and Wanda had never seen anyone die before. They had seen people freeze in the street, bleed out after a particularly brutal police crackdown, gibber and sob and wither in on themselves after Strucker's experiments. They had seen bodies pulled out of the rubble of their home in pieces. They weren't strangers to death, but they had never killed anyone before. Arguably they still hadn't, but they had certainly helped. Aided and abetted, at the very least. " Strucker dies, philosophy and interior redecorating happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Logistics of Murder

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to defenestrator who sort of requested this? Reminded me that it existed and ought to be written, not sure if that's a request. Either way, they are culpable in this. A bit rushed and as always less edited than it should be.

It happened so fast. It wasn't that Pietro and Wanda had never seen anyone die before. They had seen people freeze in the street, bleed out after a particularly brutal police crackdown, gibber and sob and wither in on themselves after Strucker's experiments. They had seen bodies pulled out of the rubble of their home in pieces. They weren't strangers to death, but they had never killed anyone before. Arguably they still hadn't, but they had certainly helped. Aided and abetted, at the very least.

They had taken out the guards almost too quickly, incompetence on the part of their enemies or a reminder of how powerful they'd grown, it was hard to tell. Strucker had been sitting in a cell, as calm as could be. Like he hadn't told them lies, won them over with kindness, then locked them up and tortured them. Like he hadn't killed dozens, hundreds, in experiments with a survival rate of, well, just the twins.

Fours walls, steel reinforced, cameras Ultron had taken out beforehand slouching dead eyed in their nests in the top corners. Just grimy enough to intimidate, while still keeping some standards of cleanliness. Lots of concrete. The bed had a thin mattress and no blankets, pillow sewn to the sheets which were in turn secured to the bed frame bolted to the floor. The little sink and toilet were frankly sad, but it was hard to feel sorry for the man. The cell was arguably better than the twins rooms had been during certain stages of the testing, no crisp halogen lights on at all hours or glass walls to let curious men of science peer in at all hours. And Strucker's food probably wasn't drugged to high heavens with who knew what, no they'd be treating the Baron with kid gloves because he was the sort of man to take advantage of every indignity and turn it into power for himself. He had the contacts, the resources, the knowledge, the bargaining power, to be treated humanely, if not gently.

The steel, titanium, gleaming silver and glowing red robot who had led them in had cleared his throat- or made a sound like clearing his throat- and Strucker had looked up, primed to fake surprise as through he hadn't heard the door opening. Pietro watched and Wanda felt the moment false surprise gave way to confusion, then terror, then cold analysis, too quickly for anyone without their talents to notice.

Strucker hadn't had a chance to say a word before Ultron killed him. It was efficient, a job done, and the twins really couldn't argue that it was the correct course of action. No use stalling when they had decided on their plan hours before.

Still, it was hard to hide the way Wanda's eyes widened at the snap of bone cracking under the pressure and light of Stark tech, or how Pietro failed to smirk or posture.

"I'm sorry, did you want to do that yourselves?"

"We had no real opinions on the matter." Wanda decided, creeping over to inspect the body. "He is not the one we truly want revenge on. It was just a bit shocking."

"He was going to die either way, and I really didn't have an interest in listening to him talk." their ally said, sounding suspiciously like he was justifying.

"We know." Pietro said, rooted in place and looking just a tad shell shocked. "He deserved to die."

The baron did not look smaller in death, he had never been a menacing man in terms of stature. But with his jaw slack and his eyes glassy he did look older. Once he had told the twins that he had once had children of his own, twins as well. He had clearly meant it to be reassuring, an attempt to win over his most precious experiments. But Wanda had already heard, amid the screams and chatter of the mind around them, rumors about what had happened to the Von Strucker twins. They had been disparate but none of them had been pretty and the comment had entirely failed to win the good baron anything but blank stares from the Maximoffs.

That had been during the middle stages of the experiments, when they were tired and suffering and disillusioned with the idea that the group they had learned to call HYDRA had their best interests at heart. Disillusioned with most everything, in between the pain and confusion of their powers just starting. It wasn't until they had started to recover and understand just what they could do that they had begun to be optimistic again.

Wanda finished her survey and looked up at Pietro, who started out his reverie, quite literally, moving so fast the air hissed around him. The chill of the cell and the knowledge that they would be dealing with NATO forces soon enough was enough to force the three of them into action.

"Drama." Wanda ordered, because that was what Ultron had said when he first informed them that Strucker absolutely had to go. 'We'll have to make it look like revenge, so they don't suspect too much. I don't want Strucker talking, I can still use some of his contacts to further our goals. A touch of melodrama, once we're done, I think. Think cable television murder.'

Drama, they could probably do. Ultron laid the body against the wall limbs splayed, so it would be seen as soon as the door was opened. Then, just for effect, he ripped the door off it's hinges. Pietro managed to tear the sheets and mattress off the bed, the sound cheap cotton ripping set everyone's teeth on edge. The dead cameras shattered as Wanda imperiously flicker her wrist. That was it, that should have been it. He was dead at their feet and the room had been taken apart sufficiently to make it look like someone had a grudge.

Wanda crouched and pressed a hand against the dead man's chest, shredded flesh and cloth, until her fingers were soaked in blood. Pietro flinched, it had been years since their parents had admonished them not to touch roadkill because it was unhygienic and unclean, but some lessons stuck, and his sister's actions were more than a bit macabre.

At his questioning look she raised her eyebrows, asking him to reserve judgement. He did. Ultron was less observant and needed to speak up.

"Bloody hand prints are going to raise a few too many questions, though the effort is admirable."

"Not hand prints." Wanda said, eyeing the concrete above Strucker's body. "Drama. What do you think it would be best to write?"

It was a little worrying how good they were at it, though Ultron was better and ended up dictating their eventual message.

Still, they had just killed a man, or watched a man be killed, and they were going to walk away afterwards and everything was going to be fine. Fine-ish.

He deserved to die. They still felt a little sick. Maybe when Tony Stark died they would feel a little sick then. It was hard to tell, and impossible to decide which would be better, self righteous retribution or reluctant justice. On the whole self righteousness did seem more satisfying.

The sink was next to Strucker's body and before they went the twins washed their hands, blood swirling down the drain and the tang of death filling the air. Once their hands were clean they finally left. It was cold outside and they held hands because the water and the freezing wind made their fingers feel like popsicles, and also because it was a simple fact that another living soul made death much more palatable. They knew, they'd seen enough of it.


End file.
